


Worse Things Have Happened

by ereshai



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Getting Together, M/M, Soul Bond, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple <strike>babysitting</strike> protection assignment quickly becomes complicated by an unexpected soul bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Things Have Happened

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orderlychaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/gifts).



> My first attempt at a soul bond fic. I hope you like it, orderlychaos. Happy Holidays!

The retreat was picturesque, Clint had to admit that. The main building sat at one end of a large clearing in the woods, and the individual cabins were distributed at intervals around the perimeter, fifteen in all. The trees towered over everything, their leaves blocking most of the sunlight. Clint was happy to see that the underbrush was sparse; it would be hard for someone to sneak up to the place. That didn’t rule out a frontal assault, but that wasn’t AIM’s usual style – they preferred to persuade, bribe, or, if those methods didn’t work, quietly kidnap their targets. Frontal assaults were reserved for stealing tech.

Agent Coulson – Phil, Clint had to remember to call him Phil – parked the car next to their assigned cabin. They grabbed their bags and took them inside – the door hadn’t been locked, and there was only a simple latch on the inside. The door itself was flimsy; Clint could knock it to splinters with one good kick. The cabin was one big room, with a bed in one corner, a table and two chairs in the other, a door that Clint assumed led to the bathroom, and an alcove that served as a closet with a bar to hang clothes and a short dresser.

“This is nice,” Phil said. He dropped his bag on the bed and fiddled with his watch, activating the bug detector. It flashed green almost right away. “We’re clear.”

Clint threw his bag on the bed next to Phil’s, then went to the tiny window and looked out. “This is practically a paper shack. Someone could put their ear against the wall and hear us loud and clear. I hope our neighbors aren’t screamers.”

Phil chuckled, and Clint didn’t bother to hide his grin. Who knew the great Agent Coulson had a sense of humor? None of the other junior agents would believe him if he told them. Maybe this wouldn’t be the most boring op in history, after all.

“I think we covered everything in the car, but if you have any more questions, now’s the time.”

Clint had been a last-minute addition to the op, and they had spent the whole car ride going over the details, including their back story. It wasn’t the best way to prepare, but undercover protection gigs weren’t usually very complicated. They were basically babysitters, though their charges had no idea they were there for that purpose, and had actually flat-out refused SHIELD’s offer of protection. If Sitwell hadn’t developed appendicitis, Clint would probably be off on yet another training exercise. AD Hill had strong ideas about keeping junior agents busy; they got into less trouble that way. He’d jumped at the chance to go on a real op, even a boring one; he hoped that wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. “We’re sure the owners of this place are clean?” he asked, not for the first time.

“If they aren’t, they’re way better at this than we are, and they deserve to win.”

“You think Dr. Banner and Dr. Ross would agree?” The two high-profile scientists had been approached by AIM before, and they had refused whatever AIM had offered. They seemed to think that was the end of it; too bad AIM saw rejection as a jumping off point for their extreme recruiting tactics. Banner and Ross would have guardian angels for the rest of their careers, or until AIM was shut down for good. Clint wasn’t taking any bets on that happening.

“Definitely not, but I have faith in our ability to keep them safe. The Thomas’ are clean.” Phil held up the program that had been lying on the table. “There’s an introductory session in half an hour. That should give us enough time to do a quick sweep of the area.”

Clint nodded, and joined Phil by the door. Phil had one hand on the door knob, and he held the other out to Clint. “We’re a married couple going for a walk in the woods,” he said at Clint’s questioning look. “A married couple desperate enough for a soul bond that we’re paying a ridiculous amount of money to listen to a couple with neither training nor credentials tell us how to create one on our own. Hand-holding is just the beginning.”

Clint stared at his outstretched hand a moment longer. He didn’t touch people without gloves if he could help it, ever; a lifelong habit he’d never bothered to break, even after bonding with Natasha. Secondary bonds happened all the time. But really, what were the odds that Agent Coulson was his soulmate, too? He reached out and laced their fingers together.

A flood of sensation ripped through him – the warm hand in his, the confusion, the cool metal of the door knob under his palm…No. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t…

And then he was pulled under.

He drifted, engulfed by memories, some familiar, some not. He didn’t try to make sense of them; there was no point.

- _This wasn’t supposed to happen again, goddammit-_

The words pulled at him, the only clear thought in all the chaos. They might have been his. He had never expected to bond with anyone – the one he had with Natasha had been unexpected, and was unlike anything he’d ever heard about. He figured he was too strange for a regular bond, much less a secondary bond.

- _Should have checked first thing-_

The flood of memories receded, leaving only a jumble of emotions in their wake. Irritation, disbelief, wonder, confusion, and determination all mixed together. Clint let it all wash over him, until they cut off abruptly.

Dazed, Clint opened his eyes. Phil had pulled his hand away, and he was rubbing it over his face. They were both sitting on the floor.

“Shit,” Phil said, and Clint nodded. “I have to call this in.”

Clint nodded again, and then his brain caught up with him. “Wait,” he croaked when Phil reached for his phone. He cleared his throat. “They’ll pull us off the op.”

“Very likely,” Phil said. He had his phone in his hand, but he just looked at Clint.

“There’s no back up team. You told me yourself that this is the perfect time for AIM to grab Banner and Ross.” The military lab that employed both scientists had excellent security, as did their shared home. It was just the few times they ventured away from those places that were a problem, like their stay here.

“It is,” Phil agreed. “You think we should stay.”

“It’s only a week.” Never mind that it only took a few days of close contact to solidify a bond, and they would definitely be in very close contact for a lot longer than that if they stayed. Sharing dreams and emotions; mental, emotional, and physical pain if they didn’t touch each other on a regular basis; and feeling like they’d been ripped in half if they were separated for too long - all lifelong side effects they could avoid if they separated now. A soul bond could easily become a liability in their line of work. “Yeah, I think we should stay.”

After all, Clint had worked through the pain of being separated from Natasha. It couldn’t be that much worse this time around. As unusual as their bond seemed to be, it was still a bond. Weird that fate, or nature, or whatever the hell created the bonds in the first place had decided he would be compatible with two such different people. But if he and Phil were compatible…

It wasn’t too much of a surprise when Phil put his phone away. “Agreed. We’ll work _this_ ,” he waved a hand between them, “out later. Since we’re staying, we have to get to that session now.”

Somehow, more than twenty minutes had passed since the bond had kicked in. It sure hadn’t felt like that long. Clint got to his feet, expecting his knees to ache after kneeling on the hard wood floor, but they were fine. Phil got up, a little more slowly. This time when Phil went to open the door, he didn’t try to take Clint’s hand.

They walked to the main building, Clint staying as close as he could to Phil without actually touching him. When the strain of separation became too much, he’d brush Phil’s shoulder with his own, settling the anxiety that was churning his stomach. Maybe this was a horrible idea.

The introductory session was taking place in a large room off of the reception area of the main building. There was a low stage at one end of the room, and chairs were set out in pairs around the room, with plenty of space between them. All but one set had someone sitting in them.

“Hi!” A cheerful voice greeted them as they entered the room. A casually dressed woman was standing at a podium near the door. She picked up a folder. “Let me guess, you must be the Caldwells.”

It wasn’t much of a guess, if they were the last to show. Phil nodded and smiled. “Thank you,” he said, taking the folder she handed to him.

“I’m Jill Thomas, one of your facilitators. It’s great to meet you…” She waited expectantly.

“Phil,” Phil introduced himself, then gestured at Clint. “This is my husband, Jasper.” Clint smiled and waved sheepishly.

“If you’ll be seated, Ben will get started in a minute.” With another smile, Jill disappeared through a curtained door behind her, and Phil and Clint took the last two open seats. Clint spotted Drs. Banner and Ross almost right away. They were on the other side of the room, talking quietly to each other over something they’d drawn on their folder. It looked like some kind of equation, but Clint was at the wrong angle to see much detail. The rest of the couples were waiting just as quietly, some holding hands or whispering to each other. Clint fought the urge to take Phil’s hand; they were close enough to satisfy the demands of their new bond. He didn’t _need_ skin-on-skin contact, not right now. But they were going to have to get a handle on this thing soon.

Jill came back through the door, followed by a man who looked like one of those late-night tv preachers – bright, toothy smile, perfect hair, and a sympathetic yet confident look on his face. The only thing missing was the suit. Clint distrusted him on principle.

The man hopped up onto the low stage and raised his hands to get their attention. “Hello, everyone. Let’s begin. I’m Ben Thomas, co-founder of The Thomas Method, along with my wife, Jill. You’ve all met Jill?” There was a chorus of yeses. “Welcome to _The Agape Way_. I’m happy you could all join us today.”

There was some polite applause. Clint was puzzled, and he leaned over to ask Phil, “Isn’t _agape_ brotherly love?” Phil looked at him sharply and nodded, but he didn’t have time to say anything before Ben continued.

“You’ve all made an important decision, choosing to come here. Why put your happiness on hold? There are no guarantees that you will ever meet your soulmates. The first thing you need to do is put aside the idea that there are only specific people out there for you, and that you’ll be unhappy if you never meet them. People grow and change; soulmates who share their lives tend to grow and change in the same direction, that’s all. Show of hands, has anyone in this room ever experienced a soul bond?”

A few people raised their hand, including Phil. Clint kept his down; Natasha was nobody’s business.

“Would anyone care to share why you aren’t with that person now? You, sir?” Ben pointed at Phil, who shifted in his chair. Clint leaned closer, pressing their shoulders together. The layers of clothes between them muted the connection, but Phil relaxed at the touch.

“We, ah, we decided that our lives were going in different directions, so we didn’t pursue the bond.”

“Since that decision, have you met your former potential?”

Phil folded his arms across his chest, mirroring Clint’s pose. “Yes.”

“And did you still feel the same pull towards each other?” Ben asked encouragingly.

“Not…really.” Phil’s discomfort was clear, at least to Clint. He reached out and squeezed Phil’s thigh.

Ben nodded vigorously. “You see, it all comes down to _choice_. You chose not to pursue the connection, and you each changed as you lived your lives, until you were no longer as compatible as you once were.” He looked around the room. “And now you have chosen to be with someone else, even though you didn’t feel that immediate spark. Soul bonds are an indication of extreme compatibility, not a guarantee of lifelong happiness.” He gestured expansively at everyone in the room. “Who’s to say you – any of you – won’t develop the bond over the course of your relationship? I know it’s possible. It happens to people all of the time. It happened to me.”

All of the couples in the room started whispering amongst themselves. Ben spoke up over their quiet voices. “Yes, my wife and I share a soul bond. It didn’t happen immediately, and we had to work hard for it. Any relationship takes work, soul bond or not, and it’s worth it. Totally worth it.” He grinned and held out his hand to his wife, who was standing off to one side. She went to him and took it with a matching smile. The audience started smiling, too, and several couples were putting their arms around each other. “I would still feel the same way about Jill, even without the bond. That’s how I know we can help you. A soul bond enhances a relationship, but so do love and trust and honesty.”

Belatedly, Clint put his arm around Phil, grateful that they were both wearing long sleeves. Clint wouldn’t be able to hide his reaction to the flood of Phil’s thoughts and emotions merging with his again, and no matter good Phil’s poker face was, he wouldn’t be able to, either. Phil leaned into him, and Clint whispered in his ear, “I figured this was a scam, but they seem pretty serious about it.”

Phil nodded, and turned to answer the same way. “Gratifying, but irrelevant. What’s your take on the other couples? Do you peg any of them for AIM agents? Nothing came up on their background checks.”

Clint suppressed a shiver when Phil’s breath tickled his skin. “If it’s any of them, they’re playing their part pretty well. We should double check the staff, too.”

“Yes. All four of them,” Phil murmured. “The two teenagers who do the cleaning, and the cook and his assistant who’ve been here since before the Thomas’ bought the place.”

Clint smiled wryly. The staff had probably been triple-checked, if Coulson’s rep was accurate. Clint was beginning to think it was, and that it also didn’t do the man justice. He thought he’d like to work with Coulson again, if they could get past this soul bond thing.

Ben kept talking, and Clint tuned him out. He studied the other couples more closely, but they all seemed pretty into his bond-forging psychobabble. Clint was now bonded with two people, and that was two more than he ever thought he’d have in his life; he didn’t think he’d ever need to know how to create one on his own, if such a thing was even possible.

Phil shifted, opened up their folder, and pulled out a sheet of paper. Everyone else was doing the same.

“Tonight, before you go to bed, I’d like you all to try a couple of these simple exercises, the ones that appeal to you the most. It’s important that you don’t actively dislike the ones you choose. I want you to get into the habit of doing these exercises at least once a day. We’re building a foundation for your future bond, so make sure you’re comfortable and have fun!”

Clint glanced at the paper. The exercises listed were things like ‘Maintain eye contact for two minutes. Increase the time by half-minute increments each day until you reach thirty minutes (or longer, if you choose!). Blinking okay!’ or ‘Hold each other’s hands while meditating.’ Clint’s favorite was ‘Try to see each other’s aura with your third eye. Warning: this is an advanced technique!”

Soon after, Ben dismissed them for the afternoon. There weren’t any activities, but the trails around the retreat were well-kept, with secluded benches, ‘perfect for communing with nature and your loved one.’ Clint and Phil hung back until Banner and Ross left, then followed behind them at a reasonable distance. Luckily, the scientists went to their cabin. Clint didn’t want to wander through the trees just yet.

Their one tiny window didn’t have the greatest view of the Banner-Ross cabin, so Clint dragged one of the chairs from the table and set it just outside the door. If anyone asked – which they wouldn’t – he just wanted some fresh air after being cooped up in the car for hours. He sprawled in the uncomfortable thing, his arms folded across his chest, and kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, peering through slitted eyes as he pretended to rest.

Phil puttered around inside the cabin for a while before coming to stand in the open doorway. Clint immediately relaxed, the tension draining out of his shoulders. Damn, he’d forgotten how hard this was. He really didn’t want to _need_ someone like this. Soul bonds were stupid.

When proximity wasn’t enough anymore, Clint got out of the chair and went into the cabin. Phil didn’t move from his spot at the door, and Clint made it a point to brush against him with his whole body as he entered. And, damn, Coulson was definitely not just a suit, not with a body like that. That knowledge did not help Clint’s state of mind in any way.

Clint’s bag was still on the bed, but Phil’s was gone. Clothes were hanging in the closet alcove, and through the open bathroom door, Clint could see a toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink. Clint shrugged, and went to empty his bag into the dresser. Phil’s socks and underwear were neatly arranged in the top drawer, all on one side so Clint could put his in, too. That was nice; Clint had shared quarters with some selfish dicks before – at least his soulmate didn’t seem to be one. Since Clint was only a selfish dick when forced to be by crappy roommates or his job, he carefully placed his things alongside Phil’s, and did the same with his toiletries in the bathroom. When he was finished, he went to stand behind Phil, so close he could rest his chin on Phil’s shoulder if he wanted.

“This is going to be a distraction,” Phil murmured without turning his head. One of the other couples walked by them, their arms around each other, and Clint put his hand on Phil’s hip. He had to remember they were supposed to do all that lovey-dovey stuff, and he didn’t have to hide how much he wanted his hands on Phil’s body. It wasn’t all because of the soul bond, either, which would be a confusing as hell if he let himself think about it. Phil wasn’t his usual type.

“I wonder if they’re the kind of people who brings their work home with them,” Clint said. “It would make it easier to watch them.” Banner and Ross hadn’t left their cabin since they had entered it.

“Banner does; Ross doesn’t. I predict there’s going to be a long romantic walk in our future.”

“Aww, you do care.” Clint wrapped his arm around Phil’s waist. He wasn’t trying to cop a feel; this was work-related. The fact that he was enjoying his work was irrelevant.

Phil carefully moved his hand until it was hovering just over Clint’s, and waited.

Clint took a deep breath. “Do it,” he said. Phil laced their fingers together, and Clint closed his eyes when the rush of…everything…hit him. It wasn’t as intense as the first time, and Clint was able to get himself under control much more quickly. Phil was breathing heavily, but that was the only sign that he was affected, too. “You’ve done this before,” Clint said absently.

“So have you.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. They kept the contact between them, getting used to the feel of each other. At least the touch telepathy was a one-time thing. Clint wasn’t sure if he could take actual thoughts on top of the jumble of images and feelings he was already getting.

“The security here is…inadequate,” Phil said eventually. “We’re going to have to take watch in shifts at night.”

“Inadequate? It’s a joke. And sleeping in shifts sucks.”

“It does.”

Their surveillance finally paid off. About an hour before the scheduled evening meal, Banner and Ross left their cabin to take a walk along one of the well-marked paths. Clint was sitting outside in the chair again, and Phil was inside, reading a paperback. Clint stood up and stretched ostentatiously.

“Hey, sweetums, how about a walk before dinner?” He grinned when Phil glared at him.

“Sure, love dumpling,” he answered, and Clint snorted a laugh.

The walk was uneventful. Clint and Phil were able to keep the two scientists within earshot, especially once they picked one of the secluded benches to sit in for a while. Clint even climbed a tree to get a better look at the surrounding area, though that was mostly for fun. His fingers itched for his bow, but there had been no way to justify bringing it along. He and Phil were both making do with backup guns in ankle holsters, and Clint always kept a couple of knives hidden away.

Dinner was served buffet style, and they ate at small tables that seated two couples each. Ben and Jill made the rounds, stopping at each table to ask everyone about their afternoon, and to encourage them to work on their exercises, if they hadn’t already. Clint let Phil handle the small talk; he was still trying to remember to answer to Jasper instead his own name. Afterwards, the Thomases held another session, this time a practical demonstration of most of the exercises they recommended. It was incredibly boring, and Clint was glad when it was over, and they could escape back to their cabin for the night.

They got ready for bed in silence. Phil sat at the small table, and Clint joined him.

“How do we want to play this?” Clint asked him finally. “I mean, I’m good to stay awake for a while, so I can take first watch.”

“That’s fine,” Phil said. When Clint got up to move his chair over to the window, Phil stopped him with a hand on his arm. “And how do we want to play this?” Phil’s pinky touched his wrist, and there they were again, in each other’s head.

Clint sat down heavily as Phil pulled his hand away. “I’m kinda getting the idea that neither of us was looking for a soul bond.”

Phil nodded. “It’s inconvenient, at best.”

“Yeah. And I don’t know any way to break a soul bond, ‘cept death. You?”

“I’ve had success with not completing the bond in the first place, but that will only work if we stop now.”

“And we’re putting duty before our personal lives, so that’s not an option.” They were both the same kind of idiot, apparently. Clint looked down at his hands. “I already have a bonded. Sort of.” He didn’t know how to explain what he had with Natasha; he didn’t quite understand it himself. “We’re not together or anything.”

Phil looked intrigued by that, but Clint pushed on. “I don’t really want a soul bond, but I don’t have a problem with _you_.”

“I don’t have a problem with you, either,” Phil said gravely, and Clint suspected that Phil was teasing him a bit.

“So, what’s your position on sex?” If he was expecting to get a reaction out of Phil, he was disappointed.

“No sex while we’re working.” Phil stood up. “We can discuss it when the op is finished. If you’re taking first watch, I’d better get to sleep.” As Phil walked past him on his way to the bed, he dropped a kiss on Clint’s forehead, hesitated, and then continued on as that was perfectly ordinary.

Clint made a noncommittal noise, still reeling from the fondness he’d felt when Phil had kissed him. Which one of them had been feeling _that_? “Good night,” he said eventually, and he turned off the light.

“Wake me if you need anything.”

Clint moved the chair over to the window and looked out into the night. Somehow, the darkness erased the distance between them; Phil’s even breathing settled that part of him that wanted Phil close all the time. What would the dream sharing be like? Would Phil get echoes from Natasha’s dreams, too? No one ever mentioned that when they talked about secondary bonds, or if they had, Clint hadn’t been paying attention.

His watch passed slowly and uneventfully, and soon enough he was waking Phil for his turn. They didn’t speak, and Clint crawled into bed, breathing in Phil’s scent on the pillowcase and letting it lull him into sleep.

==

The next few days passed along much the same lines as their first night. Group and individual sessions with Ben or Jill, lots of walking in the forest while trailing after Banner and Ross, taking turns napping when they didn’t have to follow the two scientists, politely boring meals. Clint and Phil spent a lot of time touching, especially during their one-on-one sessions, and their bond settled into permanence, almost like two puzzle pieces snapping into place.

But even as their bond calmed down, Clint felt himself getting tenser and tenser.

“There no way AIM could pass up this chance,” he muttered to Phil on their fourth night of keeping watch. “I wish they’d just show up already.”

Phil flicked Clint’s ear. “Never say something like that again.”

“Hey!” Clint jerked his head away. “I just want this over with, that’s all.”

“Understood. Never say something like that again.”

After that, Clint half expected AIM to show up that night, but it was as quiet as it always was. If it wasn’t for the damn – well, not so bad, really – soul bond, this would have been the most boring thing Clint had ever done.

In the early afternoon, Phil was napping while Clint kept an eye on their charges. There wasn’t much socializing outside of meals – everyone was focusing inward, shutting everyone out but their partners in an attempt to bond. It seemed pretty stupid to Clint, but no one was asking him.

A truck rumbled up the gravel road, and Clint instantly went on alert. “Phil,” he said, pitching his voice to carry across the room, and Phil blinked awake. “There’s a delivery truck.”

Phil moved to the edge of the bed and strapped on his ankle holster. “It could be a regular delivery,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he believed it. The waiting had been getting to him, too. “Let’s check it out.”

They walked casually toward one of the trails closest to where the truck had stopped. The driver went to the back and lifted the big door, revealing four yellow-suited AIM soldiers holding cattle prods.

“They’re seriously wearing those to a kidnapping?” Clint asked Phil.

“AIM has a strict dress code.” Phil drew his gun and slipped into the trees. Clint quickly followed.

The AIM goons obviously weren’t expecting any resistance. “Doctors Banner and Ross,” one of them announced through a megaphone as the rest spread out through the clearing. “Come quietly, and no one will be hurt. Resist, and we will not be responsible for those innocent parties who will most certainly be injured.”

Doctor Banner poked his head out through the door of his cabin. “No one needs to get hurt,” he shouted. “What do you want?”

The AIM spokesperson rambled on as Clint and Phil took up positions behind one of the cabins, guns ready.

“Try not to kill them,” Phil whispered, and Clint rolled his eyes.

“Whenever you’re ready, boss.”

Phil shook his head. “Gentlemen,” he shouted to get their attention. “This is Agent Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Please put your weapons down and prepare to surrender.”

The goons whirled in confusion. “Show yourselves!” the leader shouted.

“Do you surrender?” Phil shouted back.

“AIM demands _your_ surrender.”

“This is pointless. Clint, if you would?”

Clint grinned and took aim, shooting the megaphone out of the leader’s hands. He shrieked, and the rest of them dropped their cattle prods and knelt on the ground, hands in the air.

Before Clint could say anything, Phil said, “Not a word, Barton. You’ll jinx it.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll contact the security team. Why don’t you cover them, keep them from getting any more bright ideas?”

==

After the prisoners were taken away, they had to do some fast talking to smooth the Thomas’ ruffled feathers. Well, Phil did the talking, Clint mostly just stood behind him and looked serious. Doctor Banner kept looking at them and shaking his head, and finally Clint just shrugged at him. Maybe now he and Doctor Ross would reconsider their objection to a protection detail. AIM might have been a disappointing adversary today, but they were too single-minded to give up; one of them might actually come up with a workable plan one day.

“…will _not_ be getting a refund,” Ben Thomas was saying. His wife stood behind him, glaring at them.

“Of course not, Mr. Thomas,” Phil told him. “We wouldn’t dream of asking for one. SHIELD appreciates the use of your facilities. Thank you for your cooperation.” With that, Phil turned and went back to their cabin, leaving Clint to hurry to catch up to him.

“Time to go?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Phil said. “We need to debrief and complete our after-action reports. I’d like to get that out of the way as quickly as possible.”

“Yay,” Clint said flatly.

“Yes, yay. Once that’s taken care of, we can discuss my position on sex.” They reached the door of their cabin, and Phil turned and pulled Clint into his arms. “Positions are just the beginning.”

Clint groaned, and covered Phil’s mouth with his own before he could say anything else. 


End file.
